


Shaded Under the Mighty White Oak

by greeneyes_softsighs



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:45:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2592287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greeneyes_softsighs/pseuds/greeneyes_softsighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After years of estrangement, Trowa returns to Virginia to stay with the Maxwells for a week to celebrate Thanksgiving. Currently 1x3, eventual 2x3.</p><p>The story takes place in parallels jumping between the past & present modern era.  See chapter notes for individual chapter warnings and pairing info.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cold Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter pairings: 1x3, 2+3 mentioned  
> Chapter warnings: Angst, Blow Jobs, Explicit Language

**1998**

The ride to the big, white house was bumpy, and Trowa had to lean his forehead against the cool window to keep from getting car sick.  He watched as trees passed them dressed in their late autumn foliage, red and orange and yellows that blurred together if he stared long enough without blinking.  Winter was close.  The trees that weren't clinging to their leaves stretched up into the sky with skeletal arms, revealing behind them the stretch of land that rolled out far beside the forest and up into a high hill

Cathy squeezed his hand tightly when the big white house appeared on the crest of the hill.  The social service worker aimed the sedan at it, angling up a gravel driveway that wound left and then right again, giving a huge white oak in the front yard a wide berth.  The oak's leaves had only started their shift from green to red despite it being so late in the year.  Trowa's breath fogged the window when he realized that there was a swing tied to one of the tree's thick lower branches.  There was a kid swinging on it and as the car passed he stuck his arm up in the air, waving it around cheerily until they were out of view.  Trowa's eyes went wide and he turned to look at Cathy.  

"They have a kid my age here!"  His excitement received another soft squeeze from Cathy's fingers against his palm.  She smirked at him and flicked her head to the side, flipping her reddish bangs from her face.

"Yeah.  Pretty cool, huh?  One boy your age!"  The social worker piped up cheerily, glancing at them through the rear-view mirror.  She was a young woman, newly hired by the county and fresh out of grad school.  Trowa liked her, but Cathy wasn't impressed.  The teen pursed her lips angrily and rolled her eyes.

"Sure, if you like living in the middle of nowhere," she griped, turning her grey eyes to the expanse of dried, dormant grass that stretched between them and the main road behind them.  Trowa didn't mind living in the middle of nowhere, but Cathy had friends she'd left behind in the city.  She'd had a boyfriend, too, until they broke up yesterday before she and Trowa were moved to the big white house.  Trowa squeezed her hand this time, trying to comfort her the way she comforted him, but Cathy didn't seem interested.  She continued to look out the window without a word.

The social worker parked the car in the grass beside the driveway and got out, closing the door behind her with a resounding thunk.  Trowa pushed open his door as well, climbing out of the warm backseat into the chilly late fall air.  It smelled fresh and crisp and cold, and when he looked up at the big white house, he could see a curl of white smoke rising from the brick smoke-stack and smell the warmth of burning wood.

"Whoa!"  Trowa almost fell to the ground, surprised by a flying tackle launched by the kid they'd passed at the oak.  Apparently he had followed them all the way up the drive at a run.  "Wow!  Hi!"  Every other word from the kid's mouth was practically a shout, and he held onto Trowa so tightly it almost neared a choke-hold.

"Duo!  Calm down, kiddo.  Give him some time to adjust," a woman shouted from the doorway as she walked out with the social worker.  Duo's grip on Trowa let up and he backed away, breathing heavily from his run all the way from the oak tree and subsequent shouting and strangling.  Despite being reprimanded, he was still grinning widely at Trowa.

"Sorry," he said behind his grin, tugging at the knit cap on his head until it slipped off.  A wild mop of chin-length brown hair spilled out, sticking up crazily in places.  Trowa smiled a little at him, then looked up when the social worker and the woman from the big white house came to stand beside them on the gravel driveway.

Next to the social worker, the woman was very tall, and her broad shoulders sloped slightly under a flannel shirt she'd tucked into her jeans.  Like Duo, her hair was chocolate brown and cut in a short bob that reached just to her chin.  The woman smiled down at Trowa with her hands fitted snugly into her pockets.  He stared up at her.  She was very, very tall.

"Hello, Trowa.  My name is Helen Maxwell," she greeted him, pulling a hand from her pocket to hold out.  Trowa hesitated, glancing at the social worker before taking a cue from her eager nod, and grasped Helen's hand.  It was warm and soft and her grip was gentle.  He shook it firmly, feeling as though this was a very important meeting and he should make an excellent first impression.

"You're a serious kind of kid, huh?"  Helen asked with a warm laugh after he released her hand.  "Do you like hot chocolate, Trowa?"  Trowa nodded slowly, glancing at the social worker again.  She smiled encouragingly.  Beside him, Duo pumped a fist into the air with an excited shout.

"Duo, why don't you get some for yourself and Trowa.  Where's Catherine?"  Duo raced into the house without more prompting, but Trowa waited before following him.  When Helen mentioned Cathy, he suddenly felt embarrassed, because his sister was still pouting in the social worker's car.  Helen was being so nice, and all Cathy could do was whine about missing her friends and mope about her boyfriend.  Trowa hadn't even particularly liked him, either, and didn't understand why they couldn't just talk on the phone and be boyfriend and girlfriend still.  If he had a girlfriend, Trowa wouldn't break up with her just because she was moving away.

"Go ahead inside, Trowa," Ms. Maxwell said quietly.  He turned his gaze away from the car to look at her, then glanced at the social worker before walking to the front door.  Duo had left it wide open, assuming Trowa had been right behind him in the mad dash for the kitchen, so he entered quietly and shut it behind himself.

The big white house looked huge on the outside, but inside Trowa noticed that it was much smaller and cozier.  It was old, too, and it smelled like the historical Civil War houses dad dragged him and Cathy to last year.  Trowa felt heat rise up in the back of his eyes at the sudden memory, but he rubbed them and walked through the front sitting room to the kitchen in the back.  A trail of Duo's winter wear -- his jacket, his hat, his scarf and sneakers -- lead Trowa to the archway looking into the kitchen.

Trowa was greeted by the sound of pots and pans clanging, and Duo was singing some song from the radio as he entered the kitchen.  It was much smaller than his old one, and fitted with weathered wooden cabinets that stood out in stark contrast to the sleek, stainless steel appliances.  Duo finally wrestled out a sauce pan from a lower cabinet and placed it on the stove.  He stood on a small stool as he measured out two mugfuls of milk into it, then turned on the burner low, waiting over the pan with a wooden spoon clutched in his hand.

Trowa came to stand by his elbow and looked into the pan.  He was a little taller than the other brunette, so he could see the milk warming inside without needing a stool.

"Do you like a little bit of chocolate, or a lotta chocolate?"  Duo asked him suddenly, and Trowa jerked away from the pan in surprise, knocking into the trashcan beside them.  Duo laughed.  "Sorry!  I hope you like a lot, 'cuz that's how much I'm gonna put in, okay?"

Trowa nodded and smiled sheepishly at Duo.  He did like a lot of chocolate.  Duo watched him curiously for a moment, then turned back to the sauce pan and stirred the milk.  He hummed and tapped his foot on the stool as they waited for the milk to warm up.  Trowa felt welcomed here.  This was the first foster they had been to that felt like a home, and he quietly wished to himself that they would be able to stay.

Suddenly, the front door opened and Trowa could recognize Catherine's voice pitched high and loud.  He winced as her angry shouts dissolved into sobs, and seemed to shrink in on himself as her foot falls, heavy and hurried, stomped up the stairs.  Duo's hand on his shoulder startled him again.  The brunette gave Trowa another curious look and asked, "You okay?"

Trowa nodded.  He was just embarrassed, and slightly ashamed, that his sister would act that way only after just meeting this family.  Her outbursts were partially the reason they had recently been juggled through two foster homes in the last five months.  Duo smiled and asked, "Does she like hot chocolate?"

Trowa nodded again and smiled.  It seemed like even Cathy's crazy tantrums weren't a deterrent for the blue-eyed boy.  Duo returned his smile with a toothy grin of his own, then turned back to the milk.  He tested the temperature with one finger and, after pulling it out quickly with a little yelp, declared it hot enough for hot chocolate.

While Duo measured out the chocolate shavings, Trowa held the tin, marveling at the rich smell of dark chocolate and peppermint that started to fill the kitchen.  Helen came to the archway after seeing off the social worker and watched while the boys readied some mugs and a wooden tray.  Duo lead naturally, and Trowa was eager to pick up the slack as his sous chef.  While Duo portioned the hot chocolate into the mugs, Trowa hunted down the thin, lacy vanilla cookies Helen had made the previous night.  He snuck one into his mouth to taste before carrying the tin to Duo at the kitchen table.

"What are you boys up to?"  Helen asked, finally pushing away from her hiding spot in the hallway to enter the kitchen.  She hadn't meant to give them a scare, but her sudden entrance caused Trowa such a fright that he dropped the tin of cookies.  The lid popped off and the entire batch smashed into crumbs at his feet.

"Aw, man," Duo groaned, and Trowa looked at him, then at Helen.  His eyes were wide, frightened, and his posture was stiff.  Helen realized the boy was waiting for something.  A punishment, most likely.  She was sure he had been treated badly in the past despite what the social worker told her about his and Cathy's history in the system, and it was clear by his mute responses to everything he was not yet comfortable with where he was and who he was with.  Helen knelt and began to scoop the cookies back into the tin slowly, smiling Trowa's way.

"It's okay, Trowa.  Just some cookie crumbs.  I can make more tomorrow if you want me to," she said, keeping her tone even and soft.  Duo gave her a weird look.  He was confused.  His mom never treated him like this before.  Trowa slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans, looked down at the floor and his cheeks colored slightly.  "You can help me bake them," she added, still kneeling on the floor in front of him.  "Be in charge of the egg timer and lick the spoon?"

"Mom, I'm the one who helps you!"  Duo huffed indignantly, glaring down at Trowa.  

Helen reached over and ruffled his bangs, making them even more of a mess than they had been before.  "And now that Trowa's here, both of you are going to help me.  Don't be a booger."  

Duo giggled and pushed her hand away, then looked over at Trowa.  The boy's head was still hung, with his shoulders raised and hands fisted into his pockets.  When Duo's gaze returned to meet his mother's, the look on his face said he realized that the other boy was not acting normally.  

"Tro, let's go give your sis her hot chocolate before it gets too cold!"  Duo said, and the green-eyed boy finally looked up.  He nodded hesitantly and followed Duo out of the kitchen, leaving Helen to clean up the mess and scratch her head about how she was going to deal with the boy and his sister.  Duo would make it easier, of course.  Her son was intuitive and caring, though at times he, like most 8-year-olds, lacked patience and tact.  Trowa was already warming up to him, though, which seemed to be a good sign.

Catherine was going to be a handful.  The sixteen-year-old girl was railing against everything and everyone, still caught up in the grief and anger that came with losing her parents so suddenly.  When Helen had first accepted the pair, she knew the circumstances involved in their entering foster care.  She understood the type of counseling the older sibling had been through, and how she was affected by mild depression.  Knew her to have outbursts at school and start fist fights with other students at the slightest provocation.  Her file was extensive and thorough.

With Trowa, on the other hand, she had very little to go by.  She knew he was eight, just like Duo, and that he was very quiet to the point that he was diagnosed as a selective mute by a speech pathologist after he refused to speak at school or with social workers.  That seemed to be it, according to what she was told.  Oh, and he had a peanut allergy.

Helen dumped the cookies in the trash and sighed.

Upstairs, Duo and Trowa made it to the bedroom Cathy was hiding out in.  Duo put his ear to the door and glanced over at Trowa with a shrug, backing away to let Trowa take a listen.  The auburn-haired boy cupped his hand around his ear and leaned forward against the cool, painted surface.  He couldn't hear anything coming from the other side, so he knocked.

"Go the fuck away!"  Catherine shouted, voice hoarse.  Trowa frowned and pressed his cheek to the door.

"Cathy?" he asked, much to Duo's surprise.  It was the first time he'd heard Trowa say anything all night long.  In a moment, the door was opened slowly, and Cathy peeked out at them from inside the dark room.  

"Oh, sorry, Trowa," she said quietly, wiping one red-rimmed eye on the edge of her black hoodie.  "What's that?"

"We brought you hot chocolate to cheer you up!"  Duo piped up, holding out the tray.  Cathy opened the door wider and walked to the edge of the threshold as she reached out to take the mug Duo offered her.  She took a sip.

"Tastes good," she said carefully, then smiled a little at Duo and Trowa’s hopeful faces. "But it's not very hot."

* * *

 

**2013**

Trowa quickly sucked in a breath of air and sighed, leaning back in his chair to look away from his computer for a moment.  His small apartment was dark, had been dark, but he'd been so wrapped up in work for his thesis he hardly realized.  It was only 7 pm, but with winter coming the light began to fade earlier and earlier each day.

"Ready to come to bed?"  Heero asked gruffly, looking up from the double bed shoved into the corner of their room.  Trowa could read his tired, cranky expression illuminated by the laptop balanced on his naked thighs.  The rest of the bed was piled high with books the other grad was using for his thesis.

"It's only seven," Trowa answered.  "And besides, all your perfectly organized research is hogging my side."

Heero didn't hesitate before he swept an arm across the stacks of books, knocking them to the floor without breaking his gaze with Trowa.  "We have an early morning flight, and only a couple hours between then and now to fuck and sleep before we're stuck with your crazy sister and her crazy children for a week," he deadpanned, closing the laptop and placing it gently under the bed.  "I refuse to have sex with you while those demon spawn are in the house."

It was hard to control his skepticism, but Trowa managed to refrain from rolling his eyes as he stalked over to the bed and crawled over Heero's body.  The only light in the small room came from their single window overlooking the street outside, but it was enough to make out the sculpted planes of Heero's naked chest and stomach.  He only wore a pair of briefs to bed usually, and now that it was colder, his skin was prickled with gooseflesh, dark nipples hard and pebbled.

Although he was slighter than Trowa, and shorter by about half a head, Heero's body was hard as a rock.  The man worked out religiously, as a result he had less than 10% body fat and abs that would make a grown man cry.  Trowa’s thin fingers ghosted over them now and the man under him grunted softly in approval when he wrapped one hand around Heero’s half hard cock.

"We still have the tree house to explore," Trowa murmured against Heero's lips as they met for a brief kiss before moving on.  He licked along the man's collar, then dipped lower to graze his teeth across the bud of a nipple while stroking his erection through the fabric of his briefs.  Heero's reaction was the usual.  He sucked in a lungful of air and grunted again, this time happily.

"Not going to set foot in that death trap," Heero groaned.  He bucked his hips upward, grinding against Trowa's stomach in search of friction.  The green-eyed man traced over his lover's abs with a tongue, dipping into his navel, then followed the sparse trail of dark hair that lead to the fat cock straining in his briefs.  Heero bucked again when Trowa's hot breath hit his naked skin while nimble fingers yanked his underwear down to his thighs.

"Wait..."  Heero's deep voice strained out.  Before Trowa could wrap his lips around the thick head of Heero's dick, the man shifted away from him.  The bedside lamp flicked on, washing them in warm light.  The muscles in Heero's thigh jumped when Trowa ran his blunt nails along the inside gently, simply grazing the soft skin to distract the other man while he rifled around for their bottle of lube and a condom in the bedside drawer.  Heero tossed the supplies onto the bed next to Trowa and turned back to look at the green-eyed man, eyes narrowed and lips quirked into a dangerous smile.

"Light?"  Trowa reminded him, but Heero shook his head.

"I want to see you," the man replied with a growl, reaching down to tangle his fingers in Trowa's hair.  His pulse sped up when Heero's dark-blue eyes focused on him intensely.  "I want to fuck your pretty mouth."

Trowa's vision fogged over with desire as those words dripped from Heero's lips like hot wax.  The fingers carded through his hair tightened their grip on his skull.  Heero carefully guided Trowa's lips around his glans and down the shaft until his nose met with the thick, fragrant bush at the base.  Trowa swallowed around the head, and Heero moaned loudly, relaxing his grip to allow his lover to bob upward, sucking hard with hollowed cheeks.

They continued the steady rhythm until Heero's breaths were ragged pants, and Trowa glanced up at him to catch the needy, shadowed expression on his face.  He relaxed his throat when Heero started to thrust his hips, letting the man fuck his mouth while keeping one hand on his hip to regulate the power of his thrusts.  Trowa liked when Heero gave in and got rough during sex.  The man was powerful and assertive, and Trowa, who had only previously been with a more passive lover, found he liked when the Japanese man took control.

Suddenly, Heero's thrusts turned shallow and erratic.  He grunted, mouth falling open as his orgasm neared, and removed his hand from Trowa's head so the man could pull his mouth off his cock.  Trowa's lips moved to suck at the base of the vein on the underside of Heero's erection, and one hand tugged firmly along the shaft while the fingers of his other hand traced the seam of Heero's balls down across his perineum to the tight ring between his spread asscheeks.

"Don't stop,' Heero suddenly begged, gasping roughly.  Trowa could hear the ringtone of his cell phone in the background, but Heero had his full attention.  "Don't stop, don't stop," the Japanese man pleaded.  The muscled ring puckered tightly under Trowa's fingers as he teased Heero, earning some higher-pitched grunts and a curse thrown in his direction.  When he finally thrust in the first two knuckles of his middle finger, Heero's body tensed and he came hard with a hoarse shout.  Trowa milked his cock as thick, creamy lines of cum striped his belly and leaked over the green-eyed man's knuckles into the dark thatch of Heero's pubic hair.

Trowa sat up and reached for a tissue to clean his hand while Heero was recovering from his orgasm.  The phone had stopped ringing, but as soon as Heero's hands and lips returned to his heated skin, it started up again.  Heero growled in annoyance when Trowa stood and walked to his desk.  His phone tinkled happily, displaying his fall-themed background and a number he didn't recognize.

"Don't answer," Heero said gruffly when Trowa picked up the cell.

"It's a Virginia number," he replied.  "Could be Cathy.  Hello?"

"Hey, Tro.  It's me," a familiar voice replied from the other end.  Trowa's heart suddenly lurched in his chest.  "Sorry if I woke you up or something.  Know you have an early flight and all."

"Uh, no, I wasn't sleeping," Trowa answered, feeling dumb.  He had no idea what to say.  He and Duo hadn't talked in years, and he hadn't laid eyes on the man since he left for undergrad out of state.  Really, the only thing he could think to ask was why Duo was calling him in the first place.  And on a number from back home.

"Okay..." Duo said, filling the awkward silence momentarily before explaining himself.  "Well, I guess no one told you yet that I moved back to live with Mom.  Been in Sperryville for a couple months, now."

"No, no one told me," Trowa said, feeling slightly betrayed by his sister.  "I've been busy with classes.  Haven't had the time to call Helen, and --"

"Yeah, don't worry, man.  She complains to me all the time about how bad you are with keeping up on the phone," Duo cut him off with a bitter laugh that trailed off into silence.  Then, he inhaled slowly and continued: "Anyway, Cathy asked me to pick you and your boyfriend up at Dulles tomorrow morning.  Just wanted to know what you're flying so I can get to the right gate."

Heero was watching Trowa from the bed, his eyes roaming over the taller man's body while he talked.  Trowa's erection had flagged considerably, so the Japanese man assumed that it was Catherine on the phone after all.  He cocked his head and mouthed her name to Trowa in a question.

"Oh, yeah, let me check," Trowa shook his head at Heero then turned to open a pocket on his suitcase where it waited by the door.  He checked their tickets, and gave Duo the information.  "Thanks for picking us up.  Why isn't Cathy coming?"

"Her car's broke down, actually," Duo answered, then chuckled.  "Or, I should say, your old car's broke down.  She asked me to do the favor when she saw me in the shop."

Trowa's head was reeling.  He crouched on the ground next to the suitcase and slowly tucked his plane ticket back into the pocket of Heero's bag.  Duo was back in town, back to working at the garage, and doing favors for his sister?  The last time Cathy and Duo had talked was heated, to say the least.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow," Duo said finally, with another sigh.  "Bye, Tro."

"Yeah.  Um, thanks again.  And see you tomorrow, Duo,"  The phone beeped twice to let him know the connection was closed.  Rustling from behind Trowa signaled Heero's exit from their bed, and the soft click of their bathroom door followed.  While Heero cleaned up, Trowa walked around the room and finished their last-minute packing before bed.  Heero's laptop, his notebooks and his netbook were tucked away in his carry-on.  He had the presence of mind to stash a few condoms away as well, but left the lube.

When Heero left the bathroom, Trowa was already back in bed, facing the wall on his side.  The bed dipped down as Heero's weight joined his.  He didn't say anything right away, which Trowa was grateful for, and simply wrapped an arm loosely around the taller man's waist while placing a kiss on the back of his neck.

"So, it wasn't Cathy.  Who's Duo?"  Heero asked finally.

"He's Helen's son," Trowa answered.  "He's picking us up at the airport tomorrow and  driving us to Cathy's place."

"Mm... okay," Heero answered.  He stroked a thumb along Trowa's wrist soothingly then entwined their fingers together.  He didn’t say anything about the fact that in the two years they had known each other, Trowa never mentioned Duo, or even really the woman who raised him.  "'Night."

"Good night," Trowa answered, but he wasn't tired.  A tense, nervous knot had worked its way into his guts.  Even with Heero's soothing weight against his back, the tall man couldn't find sleep before the alarm went off at 2 a.m.

 


	2. Hold Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duo's POV. 
> 
> Duo picks up Trowa and his boyfriend at the airport and drops some heavy information about his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter pairings: 1+3, 2+3 mentioned  
> Chapter warnings: Angst, Grief, Anxiety. Just overall bad feelings happening here.
> 
> a/n: Up until this point, the fic has not been beta read. If you're interested in seeing any later chapters early and giving me some feedback, drop an ask in my inbox at: greeneyes-softsighs.tumblr.com 
> 
> Thank you!

**2013**

Duo tapped his thumbs against the wheel of his Jeep anxiously while waiting in traffic on the way to Dulles airport.  He was caffinated to the max and running on just a couple hours of bad sleep, which didn’t do wonders for his already frayed nerves, but at least his car radio was working today.  Jay Robinson’s voice crooned soothingly through his speakers, spiking and sliding through the song You Are Mine while traffic crawled at a snail’s pace toward DC.  

Just the day before, he’d run into Cathy for the first time in forever and the woman had foisted on him the honor of meeting her brother, and his goddamn boyfriend, at the airport.  It’s not that Duo wasn’t happy to help people in need.  Sure, he’d done a few favors for his customers before, but Cathy?  Catherine Barton?  Or, it was Bloom, now.  The woman had just about tore him a new one last time they met, so it just didn’t make sense.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to his reflection in the rearview, then adjusted the beanie on his head and ran his fingers over the stubble on his jaw.  He should have cleaned up his face, at least.  Should’ve taken off the chipped black nailpolish he’d put on for Halloween weeks ago.  Should’ve cleaned out the three days worth of garbage piled on the floor of the front passenger side seat.

Course, Cathy could have not asked him and he would have missed seeing Trowa again.  Would’ve been in the same zipcode without even saying a ‘Hello,’ because the idiot avoided Duo and Helen anytime he visited Sperryville.  The mechanic was always amazed at how easily Tro could ignore them.  He’d been a master of diversion and avoidance when they were younger, too.  Goes without saying that he’d only perfected his technique with age.  Duo swallowed his bitterness and squeezed the steering wheel, tensing his whole body before letting out a calming breath and relaxing into his seat.

The last time he’d actually seen Trowa had been the day he drove him down to Williamsburg for check in at William and Mary.  Duo frowned at his calculations, realizing just how long ago that was, now.  He and Trowa had spent that last day together touring the campus and doing touristy things in Williamsburg, and then Duo had left and that was it.  They talked on the phone a few times once he made it up to MIT, and exchanged a few emails, but after some months Trowa stopped responding to emails and Duo became used to the texts apologizing about missing his calls.  Eventually, he even stopped getting texts.

An impatient honk woke Duo from his thoughts, and he lurched forward in traffic, barely closing a 5 ft gap between himself and the car in front of him.  He restrained himself from flipping the bird to every driver in his radius, instead changing the CD in his radio to something a little moodier.  Yeah, Radiohead would do.  As Thom York whined, and the guitar scratched to life as his backup, Duo exited onto the road that looped around to pass in front of the airport.  His phone buzzed on the dash.  It was Trowa, letting him know they were picking up their luggage and should be at the curb soon.

Duo tried hard to push away his bitterness and anger as he psyched himself up for the inevitable reunion.  Trowa had ended their friendship in a pretty shitty way, but it’s not like Duo had tried any harder.  The snubs and avoidance had hurt, but a little part of himself had been relieved to let go of Trowa and start a new chapter of his life.  Duo pulled up in front of the huge airport and idled in front of the arrival’s doors with some other cars.  The day was just starting out with a grey, murky sky and Duo knew it was freezing outside by the way people ran from the exit of the airport to their respective cars.  The brunette cranked up the heat and punched some buttons on his radio, cycling through his Radiohead playlist a few times while watching the doors.  His stomach was in knots.

He stopped scrolling through the music when No Surprises started to play.  The tell tale sweetness of the song’s beginning riffs were familiar and brought back memories of Duo’s teen years.  He and Trowa had listened to OK Computer on repeat for weeks at the start of their freshman year.  He’d swiped it from Cathy’s old collection during a yard sale and that day, after stealing a couple beers from the fridge, they had just hung out in the tree house out back sharing a beat up walkman with a set of earbuds to split between them.  No Surprises had been Trowa’s favorite song on the album, and though Duo preferred the more rock-heavy songs like Electioneering and Palo Alto, he let Trowa press the rewind button as many times as he wanted when they listened together.

Duo muttered a curse to his reflection while checking himself one more time.  Still looked like shit.  He leaned over and banged open the glove compartment in search of a comb he knew he’d thrown in there.  Some more wrappers spilled out, but he managed to find the mostly toothless comb and drag it through his bangs.  He’d quickly braided his hair that morning, and it was a mess, but he doubted he had the time to fix that.  Especially since, as he readjusted his beanie, Trowa exited the arrival’s doors with his luggage in tow behind him and a black satchel bag draped over his shoulder.

It took Duo’s brain a few seconds to recognize the man.  He turned, gesturing to someone else as they followed behind him out the door.  Oh shit, that must be his boyfriend.  Duo slid down in his seat slightly, unable to fight the growing feeling that he was a voyeur and stranger totally separate from their unit.  Trowa was taller than he remembered, and his hair was slightly lighter and longer in the front, though most of it was tucked under a beanie similar to Duo’s.  But he still had the same gait as he walked.  Still held himself with a slight hunch, trying to downplay the fact that his boyfriend was a good half a head shorter.  His boyfriend had neatly cut dark brown hair, shorter on the sides while longer on top, and he wore a dark blue down jacket and lighter jeans.  It took Duo a full minute before he opened his door and got out of the car to flag them down.

“Hey!  Over here,” he greeted, slapping a grin on his face despite the tension he felt.  He waved an arm over his head and Trowa’s boyfriend noticed first, turning a pair of dark, intense eyes Duo’s way.  He nodded, then turned to touch Trowa’s arm and jerked his head in Duo’s direction.  The look Trowa gave him was not what he expected.  He’d expected a glare, or a frown, or maybe just nothing.  Instead, he got a small, almost shy smile that made Duo’s heart screech to a halt mid-beat.  Fuck.  His grin wavered slightly.

Then they were standing in front of him, and he was hastily introduced to Heero, Trowa’s boyfriend, and Duo was introduced as Duo, Trowa’s childhood friend.  It was a blur, an awkward flurry of arms and hugs and before Duo knew it, they were all piled into his jeep and zipping down I-66 back home to Sperryville.

“How was the flight?”  Duo asked, not really sure what to say to break the silence that had fallen.  Trowa was sitting beside him, ankle-deep in his trash, and Heero was sitting behind them with his hands folded in his lap.  Every time Duo glanced into his rear view, he was met with Heero’s intimidating, dark-blue gaze.

“It was fine,” Trowa replied.  He sounded tired.  Duo wondered if he’d gotten much sleep before the flight.

“Pretty packed, probably,” Duo supplied.  “Can’t believe it’s almost Thanksgiving already, huh?”  The resounding silence that answered his attempt at small talk was deafening.  Sheesh.  Tough crowd.  After a couple minutes, Duo tried again.

“Want to put some music on?  It’s gonna be a while,” he asked, daring to look at Trowa.  After six years, he was just an arm’s length away, but Duo felt like they were still light years apart.  Trowa’s green eyes caught his for a second, then looked down at the old cassette deck and CD player.

“What do you have?”  He asked curiously.  Duo’s lips slipped into an easy smile.  He and Trowa had always been into music together.  They’d had different tastes, but still enjoyed sharing and listening just like they had with OK Computer.

“I was playing some Radiohead on the way over,” he replied.  Trowa agreed they should continue listening, so Duo started the CD again.  Without prompting, Trowa leaned over and scrolled through until No Surprises started playing.  Duo had to laugh.

“What’s so funny?”  Trowa asked, a hesitant smile on his lips.

“Nothin’.  You, I mean.  I was just listening to this song and thinking about how you played it about 100 times a day when we were kids,” Duo answered, still chuckling.  
  
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” Trowa smiled to himself as he looked out the window.  “Helen finally took it away from us when she found out we’d been sneaking out back to drink beer.  We really should have been more careful with that pile of bottles we left under the treehouse.”

“Oh shit, I totally forgot about that,” he said, laughing again when the memory flooded back.  His mom had a hard time trying to discipline them when they were teens, because every punishment she gave them they turned back around on her.  Duo’s laughter died down and he grinned over at Trowa, finally feeling the spark they’d had all that time ago returning.

But then it was gone again, just as quickly, as Trowa turned around to look at his boyfriend and Duo remembered that Heero was in the car with them, brooding silently in the back seat.

“We should go take a look at that old treehouse,” Trowa insisted, and Heero rolled his eyes with a belabored sigh.  But he smiled and nodded, which seemed to be enough of a response for Trowa.  The green-eyed man turned back to face the front, regarding Duo.  “If that’s okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Duo muttered, then remembered the other favor Cathy had asked.  “Actually, if you guys want, Helen offered to put you up for the week at our house.  We’ve got plenty more room than Cathy, and two less kids screaming and running around at all hours of the day.”

“Thank you, but--” Trowa started to decline, but Heero jumped in and accepted the offer.

“Sounds great--” the blue-eyed man agreed.

“No, Heero,” Trowa turned to give his boyfriend some kind of reproving look, probably, but Heero didn’t seem swayed by it.  “Duo, we can’t impose.  Besides, Cathy already offered and we said yes.”

“Yeah, actually, Cathy’s the one who asked Helen,” Duo replied with a little shrug, noticing the slight tug of Trowa’s brow at that.  “Come on.  It won’t be so bad staying at the house, will it?  You and Heero will get our old room.  Plenty of space.  It’s quiet.”

“Trowa, I fail to see how you don’t realize the advantages of this,” Heero added, and Duo could tell already that Trowa was unhappy with him taking Duo’s side.  “Besides, you said you grew up in an historic house, right?  I’m interested in seeing it.”

Duo was amazed that after all these years he could still read Trowa’s subtle body language.  He had never been a sharer, and Duo was well-versed in the silent way he went about conveying his opinions.  The green-eyed man gave up with a noticeable sigh.  “Okay.  It’ll be good to see Helen,” he managed.  Heero reached between them and squeezed Trowa’s shoulder gently through the padding of his jacket.  Duo kept his face impassive.

They continued for about thirty minutes without anymore conversation, letting Thom Yorke’s high pitched wailing fill the silence that gaped between the men.  A gray sky continued to stretch out in front of them all along the highway with the bare, darker gray fingers of dormant trees scratching at it.  Occasionally, the bright colors of late autumn leaves shouted out at them from the tangle of skeletal limbs flanking the road.  Heero dozed in the back, snoring slightly with his head tipped forward against his chest and his arms folded, clearly not a fan of the music.  Trowa kept his eyes glued to the window, and shifted every once in a while, then leaned his head on the cool glass with a sigh.

“Sorry.  Car sick?”  Duo asked quietly, turning the music down a notch.  Trowa nodded, then straightened up again in his seat and looked over at Duo.

“When did you move back to town?”  He asked curiously, changing the subject.  Duo fidgeted with his hands on the steering wheel to buy himself some time before answering.

“About two months ago.  Mom called me and told me she has cancer, so I packed up my shit and came back to help her out,” he was aware that it was more information than Trowa wanted or asked for, but Duo needed him to know for some reason.  He needed to tell someone, because his Mom was a stubborn woman and refused to go to anyone for help.  She had even waited a month before calling Duo about it.  The sharp intake of breath from the seat beside him jarred Duo.  He tore his eyes off the road for a second to see the lines in Trowa’s brow and mouth tighten.

“Jesus, Duo, I--”  
  
“Don’t worry about it.  Mom’s trying to keep it under wraps as long as she can,” he replied, suddenly angry with himself.  Maybe he shouldn’t have told Trowa.

“I didn’t know,” Trowa muttered softly.  From any other person, it would have sounded like he was trying to acquit himself of his ignorance, but Duo could hear the self-recrimination in Trowa’s tone.  He probably felt guilty for not knowing, as if he should just have the magical ability to sniff out cancer from 3000 miles across the country.  “Is there anything I can do?”

Duo swallowed his immediate response, which was to scoff, and shook his head.  Trowa knew Helen.  He knew she would never accept his help, no matter how well-placed his intentions.  Duo, her own son, had to fight her every step of the way as it was.  “Nah, man, you know how Mom is.  She doesn’t want any handouts.”

“I know,” Trowa responded quietly.  “I meant, if there’s something you need me to do. I can help out.”

That response shocked Duo, and his anger flared.  Yeah, he had a little of his mom in him that way, not wanting pity or handouts.  He knew that Trowa was genuinely concerned, but coming from the man who had essentially forgotten his existence for six years made the offer seem a little hollow.  Duo had about ten sharp responses on the tip of his tongue, barbed and ready to puncture Trowa’s little bubble of a peace offering, but the braided man swallowed those, too.  They hurt a bit more going down.  Eventually, he wanted to tell Trowa how hurt he was about getting pushed out of his life.  Glancing into the rearview, Duo saw Heero shift in his sleep and knew it wasn’t the time for this conversation.  Would it ever be time for this conversation?

“I’m fine,” Duo said tightly.  “Just… let’s just make this week a good one.  For Mom.” 

 

* * *

 

**1998**

Trowa took forever to get out of bed on Sunday mornings, and Catherine was hardly any different.  They were not from a religious family, nor were they used to having a stable routine based on punctuality, so getting ready, and being on time, for Sunday mass was an unwelcome new chore.  Duo, on the other hand, feared his mother’s wrath when it came to being late for anything.  Mass was a particularly sore spot.

“Come on, Tro,” Duo laughed, watching the sleepy boy stumble around their bedroom to get dressed.  Duo was already in his Sunday suit, and Helen had brushed and pinned back his unruly hair in preparation for church.  Trowa’s new suit was laid out on the dresser.  His new shoes were by the door.  He grumbled as he pulled out the big dresser drawer they shared for underwear and grabbed his favorite pair of Power Rangers briefs.  After tossing his jammies aside he yanked them up his skinny legs.

“Hurry up, kids!  Five minutes then we’re out the door, whether you’re dressed or not!”  Helen shouted up the stairs.

Trowa nearly tripped over himself trying to dress after that.  Duo helped him with his suit jacket, and while he clipped his tie around his neck, Cathy’s heavy footfalls stomped through the hallway and down the stairs.  Both Trowa and Duo tensed, waiting for the inevitable explosion that came when Helen and Cathy butted heads in the morning.

As the faint sound of their tense conversation drifted upstairs, Duo tried to relax himself while Trowa put his shoes on.  He pocketed one of his favorite action figures and sat on the bed.

“I don’t want to go,” Trowa said suddenly.  Duo looked up from his black Power Ranger action figure.  He was still not used to the times when Trowa, who was usually silent to the point of muteness, spoke up to him.  The quiet boy sat next to the door with his shoes half on, new laces tangled up in his fingers.  He looked up at Duo when he came over and crouched by him, helping tie his shoes with a lopsided grin.

“We gotta go to church,” Duo said with a little shrug.  It was just something they did, and while Duo wasn’t particularly thrilled to sit in a hard pew for an hour, he knew that going made his mom happy.  Plus, Mr. Howard would be there and usually he brought his seeing eye dog with him.

“No… I don’t wanna go,” Trowa repeated, voice strained.  “I don’t wanna go back.”

Duo didn’t really understand what Trowa meant, but he always seemed to get like this when Helen and Cathy were fighting.   The boy was hunched slightly, eyes down, lips drawn into a little half-moon that quivered slightly.  Duo grabbed his hand and squeezed it.  
  
“You’re not going back,” he said.  “I promise.  Mom wouldn’t send you back.”

“What about Cathy?”  Trowa pushed, looking up at Duo.

“Nah… She wouldn’t even send Cathy back,” Duo managed, giving Trowa a goofy look that elicited a small smile.  His reassurance seemed to calm the other boy, so they headed downstairs and were packed into Helen’s station wagon.  

While Trowa and Duo were dressed in their Sunday best, Cathy had opted for something more casual.  And black.  All black, with a big skull embroidered across her chest and ragged tears in her jeans.  Helen threw her sour looks in the rear view, but the girl ignored them, staring out the car window with her walkman clutched in her hands.  A small bouquet of flowers rode beside her where Helen had left it.  Duo focused on the action figure in his pocket, and the warmth of Trowa’s hand in his own in an effort to ignore the tension between the women.  The green-eyed boy had snaked his fingers into Duo’s grip once they were in the car, and Duo didn’t mind letting them stay there.

The ride to the nearest Catholic church wasn’t very long.  As the car crunched up onto the gravel of the parking lot, Cathy heaved a huge sigh and groaned at the small church sprouting up on the side of the road just outside of town.  It was another older building made of white-washed paneling, a steeple and fitted with stained glass windows.  A few people were gathered outside on the stairs that lead into the vestibule.

“It’s only an hour,” Helen placated as they got out of the car.  Cathy slammed her door in response.  “We can all go out for brunch afterward.”  Cathy was forced to leave her walkman, which only earned Helen an angry glare, and not even the promise of brunch helped.  The woman ignored it as she crouched slightly to fix Trowa’s tie, leaving the bouquet she brought on the ground for a moment.

“How’re ya feeling?”  She asked, and the boy only frowned in response.  She sighed and brushed his hair quickly with a small comb in her purse, then stood and shepherded the children up the stairs and into the nave.  An organist was playing quietly in the balcony over the rows of seats as they genuflected and sat.  Duo inhaled the familiar scent of incense and old people.  

He glanced around quickly after they were seated, on the look out for Mr. Howard.  The man, in his late forties, was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt that stood out like a sore thumb.  Everyone graciously forgave him the faux pas because he was blind, but Duo was sure he dressed that way on purpose.  Mr. Howard wasn’t like the rest of the boring adults.  He didn’t talk to Duo like he was an idiot, like most of the church ladies did, and he also had a really cool dog.  Shin was laying at Howard’s feet beside the front pew with her eyes on the altar ahead.

Mass started.  It was boring.  It always was, Duo thought, but it was made easier now that Trowa was there.  During the homily, they played quietly with his action figure and scribbled on scraps of paper with the tiny pencils kept in the pews for filling out offering envelopes.  Helen watched them, making sure they didn’t get too rowdy, and when mass was over it seemed like they all gave a collective sigh of relief.

Outside the doors, Helen and the kids stopped to talk with other church goers and greet the priest.  Mr. Howard approached with his dog, Shin, leading him along.

“Hey there, kiddo,” he greeted Duo by ruffling his hair.  Helen groaned as her hard work wrangling the mane fell apart under the single gesture.

“Hi, Mr. Howard,” Duo laughed, pushing his hair out of his face.  “My friend Trowa is here, too.”

“Hello...” Trowa offered bravely, holding out a hand.  Shin nudged forward and pressed her wet nose against his palm.

“Nice to meet you, Trowa,” Howard chuckled.  “You like dogs?  I’ve got some treats you can give ‘er.”

While he and Helen chatted, Duo and Trowa busied themselves with petting and baiting the happy golden lab with treats.  Trowa warmed up immediately to the animal, and she seemed to love him, too.  He giggled when she licked his hands and sniffed around his pockets for more treats when they ran out.  Duo stroked the soft fur on her back happily.  Cathy even snuck in a quick ruffle of the dog’s ears before Howard left and Helen started walking toward the wrought iron gate that surrounded the cemetery at the back of the church.

Cathy and Trowa fell into step behind Duo and his mother as they crunched through the brittle grass of the cemetery, heading toward a big white oak similar to the one in their front yard.  Even with his winter coat on over his Sunday clothes, Duo shivered a little as a late autumn gust blew through.  He stopped beside his mother to stand in front of two headstones laid flush into the ground at the base of the oak tree and shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them warm.  Helen placed the bouquet of flowers she’d carried around all morning between the two stones and stepped back.

“What are we doing?” Cathy asked finally after they had stood there for a couple minutes in the cold.  She had her arms folded tightly over her chest, and her cheeks were red from the wind.  

“Just saying hello,” Helen murmured, adjusting the strap of her purse over her shoulder without letting her eyes leave the gravestones.  Cathy and Trowa gave each other a confused look but said nothing else.  They stayed back from the graves as if afraid to approach.  After another silent minute, Helen turned around and flashed the three children a smile.  

“Okay, who wants waffles?”  Duo jumped into the air with a whoop.  He glanced over at Trowa, who smiled happily, but Cathy was frowning.  She remained silent as they piled back into the car, and plugged in her headphones before they were even off the gravel drive onto the road.  The car warmed them up as they traveled back to town.  Duo pulled out his power ranger again, playing with Trowa quietly in the back seat.  The trees outside passed in a blur, and soon the small buildings of the town started to appear.

“Who were they?”  Cathy said suddenly.  She pulled off her headphones.

“Who, sweetie?”  Helen asked with a glance into the rear view mirror.

“The -- you know.  The graves?  Who were they?”

Helen was silent for a moment, simply driving along the road to their destination.  Trowa stopped playing with the Power Ranger and glanced over at his sister.  Her mouth was pinched and her shoulders were tense, hunched slightly in the way that her little brother normally took as a defensive posture.

“The graves are for my husband and my oldest son,” Helen replied gently.

“How did they die?” Cathy asked, her voice an octave higher than usual.

“In a car accident about four years ago,” Helen supplied while slowing down the car and pulling over onto the side of the road at a small house-style restaurant.  She turned off the ignition, but no one moved to leave yet.  The sound of Cathy’s shaky, deep gasp of breath filled the car before her quiet sobs.

“Don’t you miss them?”  The teenager bit out with an angry shout.  She swiped across her eyes as tears leaked out down her cheeks.  Helen opened her door and looped around the station wagon to Cathy’s side.  She opened the door and crouched down, pulling the girl into a tight hug as Cathy broke into choking sobs.  “How can we just eat waffles and pretend like they didn’t even exist!”

As Helen soothed Cathy with gentle words, Trowa nudged Duo’s hand with his fingers again.  He gripped Duo’s palm tightly and met the other boy’s eyes with his own, but Duo couldn’t read his expression.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trowa's POV.
> 
> A look at Trowa and Heero's relationship, present and past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter pairings: 1+3, 2+3 hinted  
> Chapter warnings: n/a
> 
> **Reminder** : If you'd like to beta or edit any future chapters, please drop me a line at [my tumblr.](http://greeneyes-softsighs.tumblr.com)

**2013**

The rest of the drive to Helen’s house was tense. When they finally arrived, Duo yanked himself out of the car and went to smoke on the porch while Heero and Trowa walked over to the big oak in the front yard. The thick trunk stood strong, but most of the leaves were already gone and some of the larger limbs - including the one that used to hold the rope swing - had fallen or been cut down.

“Looks dead,” Heero observed while sliding his palm over the ragged bark. He glanced up into the sparse canopy before returning his intense gaze to Trowa. The green-eyed man leaned against the tree and watched the house with his arms tightly folded. It was more than the long plane and car rides that had put him out of sorts, and when the weight of Heero’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, the brunette nearly jumped in surprise. Heero regarded him, silently questioning with the slight tilt of his head and a minute, confused curl of his lip.

“It looks different,” Trowa explained, nodding in the direction of the house. “Helen used to take good care of the lawn. The bushes and the little garden are all overgrown. Her roses are a mess.”

“People slow down with age, Trowa,” Heero stated the obvious. It wasn’t something he wanted to hear, but then again Heero wasn’t usually the most tactful person despite his caring nature. “And, I heard what Duo said in the car. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Trowa replied. He turned and bent to give Heero a quick kiss, brushing their cold noses gently as he pulled away. “Of course, you were pretending to sleep.”

“Sorry. It was an awkward situation. He kept giving me these looks in the rearview,“ Heero shrugged a little. He couldn’t explain what those looks were, because he didn’t know the history between the two men. Trowa knew what they meant, though he kept the information to himself. He was determined to get through this week peacefully. To keep things civil.

Trowa took a breath of cold air and exhaled a cloud of white. Duo was still smoking, watching them from the porch. Why had he just dropped that information about Helen? Why did he trap Trowa into coming to stay at the house? Why had he come to pick them up in the first place, because that’s what confused Trowa the most, and he needed to talk to Catherine about it. He pressed his lips together tightly, reigning in his anger at the situation and wondered that, if he’d actually fucked Heero the night before instead of answering his phone, would this have happened differently? Heero squeezed his shoulder and started to walk toward the jeep.

After getting their luggage, Trowa and Heero walked up the steps to the front door. Duo carefully stubbed out his cigarette and flicked the butt into the overgrown bushes, where Trowa noticed a small pile had accumulated. When Duo opened the door for them, Heero stepped in first.

“You started smoking again,” Trowa said before entering, waiting out in the cold a second longer. Duo rolled his eyes and gave him a baleful glare while popping a piece of gum from his jacket pocket into his mouth.

“Don’t tell Mom,” the braided man muttered. Trowa would have said something else, but the look from Duo coupled with his growing irritation pushed him to silent resignation. It was going to be harder to do this than he thought. Without an answer, he followed Heero into the warmth of the house. It smelled the same. It smelled like wood smoke, old potpourri and wooden floorboards. The smell more than anything chased the chill of late autumn away and brought back a lot of memories. Buried memories. Heero glanced around the living room and down the hallway to the kitchen.

“Where’s Helen?“ Trowa asked when Duo walked in and toed off his shoes by the couch, revealing thread-bare socks.

“Upstairs napping,” he said, tugging off his jacket. “She went in for chemo a couple days ago and gets wiped out afterward. So, be quiet when you put your stuff away. Also, her homecare nurse might come and go sometime during the week, so don’t get worried when a grumpy Chinese guy walks into the house.”

Trowa and Heero took the information in silently, then continued with their things up the narrow staircase. The shorter man lead the way, pausing momentarily to look at photographs on the way up. Trowa cringed when they passed a particularly awkward teen portrait of he and Duo. Helen had insisted on it right before they started high school. She had been all misty-eyed, worried about them losing their boyish innocence in the sea of hormones and teenage angst, wanting to capture it before it was gone. What she got was Duo, standing behind a seated Trowa, both dressed in their Sunday clothes looking at the cameraman with murderous intent.

“I know this look,” Heero said, pointing at Trowa’s face in the picture. Trowa answered with a simple glare to which Heero replied, “That’s the look.” He smirked at his lover then continued up the stairs and down the hallway. Trowa stopped them next to a door still covered in partially-removed Power Rangers stickers. He wasn’t sure what it was going to look like inside after 6 years of his absence, and when the door swung open to reveal the redecorated interior he felt a twinge of disappointment. Everything was gone. The posters, the action figures, the shelves with all their books and comics were all gone and replaced with what looked like the inside of a Country Living catalogue. Heero rolled their suitcases inside and tugged open the top drawer of the vanity dresser facing the foot of the bed. A large, oval mirror was perched on top.

“Interesting decor for a little boy’s room,“ Heero said, glancing over his shoulder at the bed’s heavy patterned quilt and the dubious amount of pillows filling about half the space from headboard to footboard. A little teddy bear smiled at them from the forefront of the mound, hugging a felt heart embroidered with the words ‘I wuv you.’

“Helen’s redecorated for a guest room, I guess,” Trowa replied as he shut the door. After unceremoniously shoving the throw pillows onto the floor opposite him, the brunette stretched out across the bed with a frustrated groan of exhaustion. Heero watched him in the mirror while packing their clothes away neatly into the dresser. Trowa had learned that, after a childhood of being shuttled around in a military family, Heero had become somewhat of a nester. He hated living out of his suitcase and always took the opportunity to put their belongings away in their proper places.

“I was hoping to see more embarrassing photos or maybe find a secret diary,” Heero joked while re-folding underwear.

“I never kept a diary,” Trowa replied in a flat tone as he stared at the ceiling. “I think Duo did at some point. I don’t remember.”

“Too bad.” Heero’s tone was bordering light-hearted, though he rarely changed his pitch. Trowa rolled onto his stomach and kicked off his shoes, letting them drop onto the carpeted floor with a muffled thunk before he pulled his legs onto the bed. He pressed his face into one of the normal pillows and breathed in. They smelled like the linen closet and that certain tang of oldness that purveyed the house. Heero continued to unpack for them in silence, though at intervals his deep, rough voice would scrape in a low hum. 

While he rested, Trowa listened to his boyfriend walk around the room, carefully shifting his weight to remain quiet in respect for Duo’s request from earlier. The floorboards shifted under the carpet every so often, but never loud enough to disturb the comfortable quiet in the room. The man was an angel, Trowa thought, as Heero walked into his line of vision and bent to upright the shoes he’d kicked onto the floor. An angel with the most perfect ass.

“Hey, come here a sec,“ Trowa said, his voice coming out huskier than anticipated. Heero smiled as he slid his blue down jacket off his shoulders and hung it in the small closet. The man removed his shoes, too, then crawled onto the bed beside Trowa. He slid a hand under Trowa’s jacket and shirt. Ice-cold skin grazed the small of Trowa’s back and he yelped, twitching slightly in surprise while Heero only chuckled.

“Sit up and let me take this thing off you,” Heero said, tugging at Trowa’s jacket. The taller man pushed himself up, facing Heero, then slowly unzipped the heavy coat himself. He wore a simple long sleeved v-neck underneath. It was one of Heero’s favorites, because it was the color of dark, rich wine and just a little too small in the shoulders for Trowa. The coat was removed and forgotten on the floor as they laid back down, spooning. Trowa knew that eventually, probably in a few minutes, they would have to go back downstairs and talk to Duo. He would also have to see Cathy today, too. And Helen. The thought of encountering each and every one of those people put his chest in a vice, only made bearable by the other man wrapped in his arms.

“Trowa, we’ve been dating for a couple years now,” Heero started, and Trowa immediately tensed. Up until this point he had avoided telling his boyfriend about most of his familial issues, and he had relied on Heero’s seemingly endless fountain of patience and understanding when it came to talking about personal matters. Heero was very private as well, so he didn’t push Trowa, but the taller man realized that maybe he couldn’t avoid the issue now -- seeing as they were surrounded by it.

“Mmhm...” Trowa hummed against Heero’s hair, steeling himself.

“When you’re ready to tell me what’s up -- whatever happened between you and Duo, or whatever -- I’m willing to listen,” he said, reaching up to take Trowa’s hand in his, cradling it against his chest tenderly.

“Thank you,” Trowa answered with a sigh, relieved that Heero wasn’t pressuring him. At the same time, he felt the vice around his chest tighten.

**2011**

**O c t o b e r**

“Cathy, I’m fine,” Trowa grumbled into the phone. He was sitting on the floor in the library, sandwiched between reference sections with a few stacks of books surrounding him. For three weeks he’d been fielding calls from his sister, trying to alleviate her constant fears that he was mugged and dead somewhere in the streets of Oakland, California. Despite his efforts to calm her, it wasn’t working, and the constant stream of calls and texts was beginning to really irritate him.

“Trowa, I saw on the news the other day --”

“I said I’m fine!” He snapped finally, tugging on his hair in frustration, then smoothing his bangs again with a frown. “And I told you, I’m compiling references for an important paper due at midterm. We can vid-chat tomorrow. Isn’t it near midnight over there, anyway?”

“But, Trowa, on the news yesterday they said there was an outbreak of something in the city there,” Catherine continued undeterred. “You haven’t taken public transportation recently, have you?” Trowa closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against his palm, sucummbing to her incessant nagging. Sometimes it was easier just to let Cathy burn herself out. He took a deep breath, internally chanting to himself She does it because she loves me.

“Unwanted phone call?” A deep voice asked him from above. Without looking, Trowa nodded, and the man let out a snort of amusement. “You know, there’s a button on your phone for those type of calls.”

“Huh?” That made Trowa look up. It was the cute library attendant, dressed casually in blue flannel and jeans with a stack of books under one arm and a backpack draped over his shoulder. Trowa recognized his striking dark blue eyes, which he sometimes caught looking at him from behind the checkout desk. The attendant raised a brow and held out his hand. With Cathy’s muffled voice still streaming from the speaker, Trowa silently offered the phone, and the attendant took it and put it to his ear without hesitation.

“Hello?” He said gravely, there was a pause. “This is Heero Yuy.”

Trowa’s mouth fell open.

“Trowa? He’s sitting right in front of me on the floor of the library,” Heero said without a hint of emotion. He flinched suddenly from the phone receiver as Cathy’s high pitched screech pierced through, yet answered her howls with an unflappable seriousness. “He’s been here every day, working his ass off. Mmhm. That’s right, I noticed. I have to clean up the mess he leaves after closing.”

“What are you doing?” Trowa hissed as embarrassment flared in his cheeks, seeping heat slowly across the back of his neck up to the tips of his ears. This would only fan the flames of Cathy’s other greatest obsession -- matchmaking.

“He leaves here pretty late,” Heero said after a beat as a smile slowly spread across his face. Trowa stewed silently, red faced and humiliated. This asshole was either insanely bold, or insanely arrogant, and if he thought of this as flirting he had another thing coming. “But I’ll make sure he gets home in one piece. Yeah. Okay, good night.“

“Like hell you are!” Trowa spoke up immediately, grabbing the phone when Heero offered it after hanging up. His face was stony, but something in the glint of those dark blue eyes gave Trowa the impression that he’d amused himself with that little stunt. The library attendant waited silently while Trowa packed up his books, huffing and puffing as he crammed everything into his backpack. He shoved a couple of reference books against Heero’s chest roughly after shouldering his backpack and the man barely budged. It was like hitting a brick wall.

“What made you think that was remotely okay?” Trowa asked, frowning down at Heero’s placid expression. The shorter man shrugged and took the books, tucking them under his arm with the rest of the stack.

“Every night for the past two weeks, I’ve seen you with that phone, and the same expression of defeat appears every time it rings,” Heero said. “I thought you’d appreciate the help.”

“What, are you stalking me now?” Trowa looked down, noticing the distinct half-head difference in their heights. It was true, though. Catherine was someone Trowa had a hard time saying ‘No’ to, and when it came to her obsessive phone calls it was even harder for him to ignore. Defeated was probably the best way to describe how he felt, even before going up against that woman.

“I work here,” Heero scoffed, then gave Trowa a quick glance up and down. “But you honestly can’t fault me for looking in your direction once in a while. You realize you’re gorgeous, right? Not to mention dedicated and, most likely, intelligent. Though you did just hand your phone to a complete stranger. Maybe you’re too trusting… are you from a small town?”

“What?” Trowa inhaled quickly as another wave of heat rushed across his cheeks. He was too surprised to keep his composure as Heero watched on calmly. “Are you aware of the words coming out of your mouth right now? Because if this supposed to be a form of flirtation, I’m not impressed.”

“I’m aware that I’m complimenting you,” Heero replied. “If you really want me to, I’ll stop, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me following my instincts here. People usually like getting compliments.”

“Complimenting me? You just gave my sister the fodder to fuel a lifetime of embarrassing conversations,” Trowa complained under his breath, finally moving past Heero on his way to the front counter. The library was closing in a a few minutes and he needed to check out the materials he’d picked. Unfortunately, the tenacious attendant followed him, leaving the stack of books in his arms on a cart at the end of the aisle.

“Just say the word, and I’ll stop telling you that your eyes are beautiful,” Heero continued. Trowa secretly marveled at how the man could deliver such lines with utter poise and, it seemed, complete sincerity.

“God, I just traded one annoyance for another,” Trowa grumbled, sliding his books across the counter to the librarian. The woman looked quickly between the two men before slowly scanning the material. “I’m just not interested, okay? I’m not looking for a relationship right now, and I don’t appreciate the fact that you think I’ll be so easily taken by just a few nice words.”

When Heero didn’t respond to that, Trowa glanced over at the other man and their eyes met briefly before he took his books back from the librarian. Okay, maybe he was being too hard on the guy. It did take guts. At least, it would take a lot of guts for Trowa to do something like that.

“I’ll stop. I’m sorry for bothering you,” Heero said, and although his expression had hardly changed at all, Trowa imagined the disappointment in the attendant’s tone. “But I did tell that woman I would get you home in one piece.”

“Jesus! You’re so stubborn,” Trowa laughed suddenly. He shook his head and sighed, giving a little shrug in response. “You really don’t have to walk with me. I live close by, and I’m nearly six feet tall. People don’t mess with me on the street.”

“I would feel bad going back on my word...” Heero said quietly. Now the tall man didn’t have to imagine the disappointment, because it was clear in Heero’s tone. Trowa hugged his books against himself. 

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” Heero asked with a confused tug of his brow.

“Nevermind,” Trowa laughed. “Listen, I don’t need you to escort me home. But… maybe I could use some company sometime this week, say, studying at the coffee place on Shattuck?” Heero mulled it over for a moment.

“I don’t drink coffee,” he delivered in the gravest of deadpan voices. Trowa nearly choked he laughed so hard.

“They have tea or whatever,” he gasped between giggles. “God, I’m asking you out now. You can’t turn me down after all of that.” He gestured toward the reference section, and Heero glanced in that direction.

“Well, you were kind of rude to me,” Heero muttered, looking up at Trowa with a sly smirk. The shorter man managed to duck as Trowa swiped at his head with the books in his arms. “Okay! Okay… I surrender. I’ll get coffee with you. Or tea, or whatever.”

\---

**N o v e m b e r**

There were many things Trowa didn’t expect to find when he moved west for grad school. Heero Yuy was one of those things. And as they became friends, neither did he expect falling into such an easy rhythm with another person. Up until that point, all of Trowa’s relationships had been difficult with messy, turbulent endings that left him shaken and distrustful. He didn’t make close friends easily, and preferred to keep acquaintances at arm’s length to preserve his privacy. Heero’s ability to shatter all those barriers with such ease was surprising, and most unexpectedly, a huge relief for Trowa. It was nice to have someone to fall back on, to have a confidant he could look to for comfort.

The strange thing about Heero was that he wasn’t much different than any other guy. He had no real special qualities about him, which meant Heero had nothing to prove. He was confident in his abilities, understood his limitations and strengths without overextending himself, and didn’t feel the need to become exceptional. Heero was a rock, or a ‘brick house’ as Trowa jokingly called him when they worked out together in the school gym, and it was his unwavering stability that attracted Trowa the most.

That didn’t mean he wanted to date Heero, though...

“You want to get dinner after your evening class?” Heero asked casually, waiting by the cafe’s community bulletin board while Trowa poured a generous amount of milk and sugar into his morning coffee.

“Sure, where at?” Trowa answered just as casually. It wasn’t unusual for them to grab a bite after class, since they shared a building and were excused at the same time. Trowa replaced the cap on his coffee and followed Heero out onto the sidewalk with his free hand tucked into the pocket of his jacket. Warm morning light sliced through the cool early winter air, saturating the sides of the school buildings and illuminating the windows like lanterns.

“Hn… I was thinking Chez Panisse,” Heero drawled. “Maybe some drinks afterward.”

“What’s that?” Trowa asked, sipping his coffee, unsuspecting.

“Something local I’ve wanted to try for a while,” Heero shrugged. “I’ll text you when I get out of class tonight, then. I made reservations for us at nine.” He broke off at a fork in the sidewalk, heading up to the library building for work while Trowa continued on to class. While walking up the steps to his building, he pulled out his phone to check out the restaurant and nearly choked on his coffee when he saw the prices. The menu was determined weekly, prix fixe, and Trowa could barely stomach the number of dollar signs. He quickly tapped out a text and sent it to Heero.

**Trowa** [8:12 am]: this place is way too expensive. i can’t go.

He shoved his phone into his pocket and power walked down the hallway to class, glaring at anyone who passed inside his personal space. Heero, for all his solidity and dependability, also had the annoying habit of manipulating Trowa into situations. It was an infuriating side effect of his decisive nature. When Heero made up his mind to do something, it happened, and Trowa usually only found out about it afterward. It took away any power he had in the decision making and left him feeling cornered.

When he slid into his seat at the lecture hall, Trowa’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he unlocked the screen to read Heero’s text.

**Heero Yuy (library)** [8:26 am]: Don’t worry. I’ll pay.

Trowa’s eyes boggled at the response, though it was classically Heero. He fought the urge to chuck his phone across the room and took a deep breath. Of course he would totally miss the point. As the teacher started setting up for class, Trowa quickly typed out a response, then turned off his phone and tossed it into his backpack. With another deep breath, he put the annoyance out of his mind for the moment and focused on his class notes.

Class was over too quickly. Trowa closed his notebook and slid it into his backpack. He looked at his phone for a second, then simply closed up his bag, glowering as he mounted the stairs to the exit. If he ignored Heero for the rest of the day, then it should be crystal clear he wasn’t interested in dinner. But after class he usually met up with the shorter man at the library for lunch, then studied until Heero finished his shift and they would walk to their evening class together.

“Ugh...” Trowa groaned. He knew ignoring Heero it would have very little effect. The man was oblivious to his avoidance tactics, or else he simply didn’t care and pushed on stubbornly until Trowa finally buckled. In a way, he supposed that Heero’s insistent nature had a positive effect on how he went along through life at school, but at the same time it caused him a lot of stress and anxiety knowing that he had to rely so heavily on Heero’s decisions without any input of his own. It took a lot of trust that, frankly, he didn’t believe he could give. 

He found himself sitting under a tree outside. The weather wasn’t too chilly despite the time of year, and the sunny day made it even warmer than usual. Looking up into the limbs, Trowa felt the familiar tug of homesickness on his heartstrings. In a couple days he returned to Virginia to visit over the fall break -- the first time since he moved to California -- and he was sorely yearning for the familiar smells and sights of his hometown. Though there were some things there he’d like to leave behind forever, Trowa was seriously looking forward to the comfort of his sister’s house and cooking, and even his little nephew.

It would certainly be a nice reprieve from the stresses at school. His classes were proving to be more difficult than he’d expected, though having a friend at the library was extremely helpful, and it seemed that every teacher was utterly unaware of the fact that their students took more than one class. The mountains of reading, writing and studying he did almost daily had worn him down to a nub -- and add on top of that the fact that Trowa would have to start looking for a part time job to supplement his financial aid. He scrubbed his cheeks with the heels of his hands and sighed, remembering back to high school when he could slide by with As and Bs without much effort.

Inspired, Trowa fished his phone from his backpack and turned it on so he could call Cathy -- a rare event, since in most cases she would call him. He almost immediately regretted it when he saw that Heero had left him a slew of texts, however. Warily, Trowa unlocked his phone and read the last thing he’d sent. Looking back, it sounded a little harsher than he’d intended.

**Trowa** [8:31 am]: that’s not the point! i’m not going. find someone else.  
**Heero Yuy (library)** [8:42 am]: I want to go with you.  
**Heero Yuy (library)** [9:05 am]: You’re leaving for VA soon, right?  
**Heero Yuy (library)** [9:13 am]: You won’t be here for Thanksgiving  
**Heero Yuy (library)** [9:14 am]: so I wanted to do something nice before you left.  
**Heero Yuy (library)** [9:31 am]: Because I’m going to miss you, idiot.

After rereading the messages a few times, he tucked his legs up and rested his forehead against his knees. Trowa wasn’t exactly sure, because he’d only experienced it a few other times in his life, but right then he realized that maybe the impulse he felt to both strangle Heero and crush him in a hug at the same time might actually be love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a note, the next chapter will continue with the second part of the 2011 time skip before continuing to the present.  
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small note about where this fic is set: It takes place mostly in Virginia, a state on the mid-east coast of the US that has amazing fall weather and foliage. I grew up in the Northern part of the state, but I now live in San Francisco, CA so this fic was basically borne from my homesickness for real fall weather. lol
> 
> Also, the places I describe: Sperryville, Dulles airport, etc are real so if you are interested in getting some better visuals you can always hit up google. 
> 
> And check out this website: http://www.web2.cnre.vt.edu/4h/remarkabletree/ to view some of the huge, old trees similar to the White Oak described in front of the Maxwell's house.


End file.
